Gemotions

A chill ran down Maya’s spine as she drove into her childhood neighborhood. She kept her hands steady on the wheel, but her knuckles were white. Years melted away as she remembered planting that little maple, her dad helping her scoop the soil. The thought of it being gone filled her with unease.

She parked the car and hesitantly approached the spot. It was like a hollow ache, the empty space where the towering silver maple should have been. Her vision blurred, and she blinked rapidly, unsure why a feeling of such weight had settled upon her.

Her jaw clenched, and she kicked at a loose stone, sending it skittering across the dry grass. She had to sit down. She perched on the edge of the low brick wall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she stared at the vacant spot.